


The Ruins of Santa Fe

by icandrawamoth



Category: Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken, Rent - Larson
Genre: Ambiguous time setting, Comment Fic, Community: comment_fic, First Meetings, Gen, Hitchhiking, Road Trips, Santa Fe, This little thing doesn't deserve this title
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-04
Updated: 2016-06-04
Packaged: 2018-07-12 03:36:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7084033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/icandrawamoth/pseuds/icandrawamoth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two kindred spirits meet leaving Santa Fe.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Ruins of Santa Fe

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the comment_fic prompt: "Any, any, _Show me where you are / You and I will spend this day / Driving in my car / Through the ruins of Santa Fe_ "
> 
> (Shh, I know these shows take place in totally different times, and this ambiguous time setting makes no sense, but just go with it, yeah?)

Santa Fe is lonely; that's probably the biggest thing Roger has learned. Of course he can't open the restaurant he and his friends had dreamed about on his own. He has no friends here. Most of his time is spent alone in his tiny, dirty pay-by-the-week motel room, missing New York and the other residents of Alphabet City. He would go for a drive just for something to do, relish the fact that he has his own car for the first time in his life, but just looking at it makes him sick to his stomach. He misses the guitar he sold to pay for it like he misses everything else, and he can't afford another one. It wouldn't be the same anyway. 

Santa Fe isn't the paradise he dreamed. Even if he isn't physically in New York, with all its stink and problems and the way it's still home, his heart remains there. He remembers Collins saying that if he moved away he would miss the city before he even unpacked; that was partially true. Roger had felt lost the moment the city had left his rearview mirror.

He sticks it out for a few weeks, but he knows almost right away that he's defeated. Santa Fe isn't what he really wants, and he has to go back. With a sign of defeat and a faint hope that things will be better this time, he packs his few belongings into the car, pays the last of his rent, and heads north.

At the edge of town, he spots a young man, plaid shirt, overalls, wearing a blue newsboy cap - and sticking his thumb out. Roger debates wether to pull over. Does he want to go it all the way alone, or would he like company for a little while, a distraction from his negative emotions?

As he draws closer, the boy drops his arm - apparently assuming Roger isn't going to stop. That makes up his mind for him; the man hits the brakes and jerks the wheel to the side. "Get in," Roger says after popping the door open. 

"Thanks," the boy grunts and climbs in. He's carrying a small sack which he settles between his feet on the floor. Roger wonders if that's all he has; he himself was dirt poor in New York and still has more possessions than that. 

"Where you headed?"

Though the boy's expression is sullen, his words are polite enough. "The train station, please."

Roger puts the car back into gear. "And from there?"

"What are you, a cop?"

"Just making conversation. I'm Roger."

"Jack."

"You're a man of few words, I see."

Jack grunts again and Roger gives up. They drive in silence for awhile. Every now and then he glances over at the kid in his passenger seat. He has the look about him of someone who'd like to talk if he found the right person. He reminds Roger of himself in a strange way.

He watches from the corner of his eye as Jack worries a loose string on his pack for a few minutes before eventually opening it and drawing out a wrinkled newspaper. He spreads it out and stares at it pensively. A moment later he glances up and catches Roger looking. 

The boy huffs and says, "New York City."

"What?"

"You asked where I'm going."

Roger raises an eyebrow in surprise. Of all the coincidences...

Jack holds up the paper and Roger glances at it before returning his eyes to the road. The big picture on the front is of a group of boys posed holding newspapers of their own, the headline: **Newsies Stop the World**.

"I heard something about that," Roger says.

"I was there," Jack sighs, folding up the paper and shoving it back in his sack. "And then I was stupid enough to leave."

Roger says nothing; he's curious just how closely this boy's story matches his own, and now that he's talking, he doesn't want to risk him stopping by interrupting. 

"I always dreamed about coming here. Escaping the city and the cops and scraping just to get by. Thought of getting a little farm or something, maybe some horses..." His voice goes wistful for a minute before his eyes turn hard again. "That was a load of crap. At least in New York I had guys who had my back. And girls. Well..."

"I had a girl in New York, too," Roger finds himself saying. "Mimi."

Jack regards him more closely. "Katherine."

Roger nods. "That's where I came from, too, and now I'm headed back just like you. Santa Fe isn't all it's cracked up to be, huh?"

Jack snorts. "You can say that again."

"I'm headed back that way now," Roger repeats, feeling not quite as much like a failure because of it with Jack beside him in the same boat. "I'll bet a car, even a crappy one like this, is better than a cheap train seat."

The boy eyes him warily. "You're actually inviting me to ride all the way across the country with you? You're not going to try anything funny, are you?"

"Would I answer yes to that question if I was?" Roger deadpans. 

That gets the first smile he's seen out of Jack since he picked him up. "I suppose not." He sobers quickly. "I can't really pay much, you know. And I don't have a license."

Roger shrugs. "I'm going there anyway, so it's not like it's gonna cost me any extra. I'll appreciate the company." The train station appears on the horizon, and Roger looks at his passenger. "So what's it gonna be?"

Jack is still cautious, but he says, "Yeah, okay. It's not like there aren't any other train stations between here and there if it doesn't work out."

"Yeah," Roger agrees, going for nonchalance, and pulls toward the freeway. 

Jack shoves his pack against the window and rests his head on it. He mumbles under his breath, barely audible, "I'm going home."

Roger smiles and thinks, _so am I._

**Author's Note:**

> A+ advice, kids: do not do what Jack does. ;) #strangerdanger


End file.
